


I Would Just Like Everyone to Know

by TracedViolet



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 18:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21165902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TracedViolet/pseuds/TracedViolet
Summary: a short grimmons one shot in which transguy Grif deals with some dysphoria.





	I Would Just Like Everyone to Know

The door to red base slammed open and the door to the room Private Dexter Grif and Private Dick Simmons shared together slammed shut, clanging into place with such force it could have taken the roof down - or at least that’s what the Dutch-Irishman thought as he followed his teammate inside, worried and desperately wanting to help. 

All bases were equipped with automatic lock systems that could open and close these ponderous doors without much effort. The only reason it had handles at all was in the event of a power outage or when a certain orange clad spartan got angry and wanted to throw things around. On any other occasion, The brunet would have saved himself the energy and just pressed the button on the wall, but slamming it felt much better. It seemed to validate his frustration and also prove he could throw a heavy metal door around without even trying. 

“Grif come on. It was just a joke.” Simmons pleaded, removing his helmet and tossing it to the floor. If his normally lazy teammate was now slamming doors, something had to have been wrong and Simmons knew exactly what it was that had got to him.

The words blue team had forced Grif to say had made the maroon soldier’s stomach sink into the ground the second he heard them. It was obvious Church had no idea the weight the phrase actually held, but that didn't mean it couldn't send Grif into a downward spiral that would take much more than a few packs of cookies to fix. Simmons couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like. He could only hope the brunet wouldn’t do something stupid and hurt himself in his fit of rage.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” The orange soldier yelled defiantly from inside but the redhead could hear the strain in the younger man’s voice, even over the violent clanking of armor being thrown against walls.

“Grif, please.” The maroon soldier begged. “There’s no possible way they could have known. It was just a joke! They would have made anybody say that!” the Dutch-Irishman went to try and pry the door open but before he could, it unlocked itself to reveal a huffing, pudgy, slightly shorter spartan in only a faded pair of green camo pants. Thick locks of brown hair hid his mortified eyes but despite his struggle to keep them back, shame filled tears still slid down his cheeks. Directly under his chest were two thin scars on either side of his ribs. It was barely noticeable. In fact, the brunet use to thank whatever god existed that he had been born into a time where corrective surgeries were so easy and didn’t leave many scars behind. That only one little implant meant never having to worry about stupid, annoying hormones ever again. Most days he forgot that he had ever once been considered a girl, but today was not that day.

Grif stood there silently staring at the floor before a strangled sob escaped his mouth. His shoulders crumpled against all his will to stand up straight like a fucking man.

Simmons started to say something but instead just pulled the younger soldier against his chest, hugging him as tightly as he could while still in his armor, without crushing him.

Grif probably wouldn't have cared if he did. The cold metal felt too good against his burning face and he pressed himself against the taller man trying to hide from whatever awful feelings were boiling inside him. “They fucking knew. They fucking knew.” the brunet choked out repeatedly, but they were just empty cries in an attempt to process his panic.

“Nobody knows. I promise, nobody knows but me.” Simmons replied, rubbing his teammate’s back comfortingly. It was just an awful coincidence. They just happened to humiliate the younger soldier by forcing him to reclaim the gender he had tried so desperately to escape and the pain was much worse than the enemy team had ever intended.

“I’m not a fucking girl.” Grif mumbled against the redheads chestplate but the anger was fizzling away into a depthless mantra as he lost the energy to fight an enemy that only existed in his own mind. “I’m not a girl. I'm not a girl. I'm not."

Simmons kissed his partner on the head, “I know you're not." the redhead assured him, as he ran his fingers through the younger soldiers hair. "I know."

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno man. I wrote it in like highschool. Go easy on me.


End file.
